Proposals
by FlightAttendantCrazyLady
Summary: There were three memorable instances in Joan Watson's life where Sherlock showed open and unadulterated affection, Now she wasn't sure what this new instance meant. Certainly not my best summary...Multi-Chapter hopefully, probably a three-shot (is that a thing?)
1. Chapter 1

Anyone who has ever met Sherlock Holmes would say that he is an unaffectionate man, cold, calculating, but moral. Those who knew him well were lucky enough to consider him a friend, would never make such a mistake. He is simply rarely affectionate, in his own weird way.

Joan Watson was one of the few that would say that Sherlock Holmes, when the timing was right, was the most affectionate man she has ever met. There have been three instances in her life since she met him that he was truly and openly affectionate; and every time it was directed towards her (She would include the times he was affectionate towards Irene during her brief stay in the Brownstone, weren't it not for the fact that that snake nearly destroyed him).

The first time, probably one of her favorites, was when he proposed that she leave her career as a Sobriety Companion, and instead become his apprentice and eventual partner. His words, "I am better with you." touched her, and she was taken aback by his insecurity in the proposal. Nevertheless, the compliment lead her to a new career; one she wouldn't trade for the world.

The second was smaller and more subtle, but no less special to her. They were waiting for the man with the killer bees, and he had promised her that he would not go after Moriarty like he had Moran. He had told her that he was different, that he had changed and that "The difference between then and now, is you." She smiled as she remembered telling him that it was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to her. And that fact remains the same.

The third, and perhaps the most memorable and definitely her favorite of them all, was when he named the Euglassia Watsonia. To others, naming a bee doesn't seem like much. But Sherlock's passion for bee keeping mixed with his own rather large ego, made naming a bee after her a significant thing. Her surprise can't be overstated, and she thinks that it was this moment that she really fell in love with the man.

There were probably countless other moments where he was showing affection, but these three were special in that they were the only times he ever completely let his guard down.

* * *

So as she sat there in her bed; staring at the diamond ring resting in the black velvet box, sitting in the dead center of the pillow next to her, she wasn't sure whether to be touched, infuriated, or annoyed. Probably some combination of all three.

Under the box, there was a note written in Sherlock's unmistakably deliberate and spidery handwriting, "I am better with you." Joan couldn't help but smile at the words that he had used to propose to her the first time. She almost thought it was a joke, or some cruel lesson to see if the diamond was real or not. Watson examined the ring more closely to see if that was indeed the case.

The ring was simple but beautiful. It had a yellow gold band with a large pear-cut diamond with a smaller pear-cut amethyst on either side of the diamond. Joan had recently read a book on the meanings behind gemstones as a part of her training, and almost laughed aloud as she remembered that amethyst, along with other meanings of healing, was the gemstone of sobriety. Leave it to Sherlock to give her engagement ring a double meaning. But regardless, he knew her almost too well; and every aspect of it suited her.

After much thought, Joan realized that Sherlock really was proposing, and was either too busy or too cowardly to ask her directly, if she knew him at all it was probably both; they _had_ been working on a rather tricky case lately. With a smile, she slipped the ring on her left hand and headed downstairs, careful not to give anything away as she descended the stairs into the parlor. Joan walked calmly and quietly like she always did and kept a poker face as she watched Sherlock fidget in front of his...their Wall of Crazy, whether from frustration from the case or insecurity about the proposal, she wasn't sure.

She didn't say anything and didn't need to. He knew she was there. "Morning Watson." He simply stated, not turning to look at her.

"Morning Sherlock. I'm going to make coffee, want some?" She replied as she made her way to the kitchen, not mentioning the ring at all.

"Please." Once in the kitchen, Joan began to make coffee and she heard Sherlock lingering by the door.

With a small smirk, one that only the Great Sherlock Holmes could detect, she said "We are telling you're father if you haven't already. And I know you don't like him, but it would be nice to have him at the wedding. And I hope you asked _my_ father's permission first, like you said before, they're traditionalists and they won't take too kindly to you proposing without their blessing."

Joan paused for a breath and continued. "And I want Captain Gregson and Bell there, I have always considered them your friends, but now they're mine too and I want them to be there. And I know you probably want to elope or just go to the courthouse for a marriage license, but I've always wanted a real wedding. It's just a weird quirk of mine, okay? Usually I don't care about that sort of thing, but the idea of getting dressed up in a long white gown and having my father walk me down the aisle is a fantasy of mine. I don't want anything extravagant, just a few friends and family, but still a real and proper wedding. And so help me Sherlock if this is just some test and not an actual proposal I will hurl this coffee pot at your head without hesitation."

Sherlock stood frozen as she rambled, basically saying yes without actually saying it, certainly to punish him for not having the guts to ask her directly. He stared at the ring on her finger and smiled. Eventually he found his feet again, and moved deliberately and swiftly over to her. He wrapped his arm around her waste, pulled her to his chest and kissed her softly on the lips. It wasn't a make-out session by a long shot, it was tender and it ended just a little too soon for Joan's taste.

"We will keep things professional while we are on a case. Especially when we are at the precinct." Joan stated simply, as she continued to be held in Sherlock's arms.

"Obviously."

"And you really do need to call you're father."

"I would rather not." Sherlock stated indignantly.

"Sherlock! He's going to find out eventually. If it makes you feel any better, imagine his face when you tell him that the Sober Companion he hired turned into your partner in detective work and is now your fiancee." Joan reasoned, with a smile at the thought.

Sherlock couldn't help but laugh. "In that case we should arrange to do it in person. I would love to see his reaction. I did ask your parents' permission by the way. I am well aware of the customs of your family, and I was not about to tread on these customs with something so significant."

Watson gave him a small peck and smiled. "I should probably call them and tell them the news..."

She started to pull away when Sherlock pulled back on her wrist. "I am well aware of your answer, it's very clear to me. But I would very much like you to say the words if you don't mind...Is this a yes?"

Watson smiled, as she leaned into him and whispered, "That's a hell yes." She left a fleeting kiss on his cheek and headed upstairs to call her family.

About ten minutes later, Sherlock received a call from Gregson about the case they were working on. "WATSON!"

"Yeah?" Joan thought she would be hurt by the fact that he still wouldn't call her by her first name, but then realized that even though they were now romantically involved, it really did not change their relationship that much. He was still Sherlock, she was still Watson, and Joan wouldn't have it any other way.

"Captain Gregson called, there is a new lead. We are to meet he and Detective Bell at the precinct."

Watson came downstairs and put her arms through the coat Sherlock was holding open for her. "What are we going to tell them?"

"I thought it was your wish to remain professional at the precinct."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't tell them. It's not like I'm going to take the ring off every time we have a case."

"Well then, I think it best that we tell them the truth. We are engaged, we expect them at the wedding, and then we'll move on to the case."

"They're going to ask a lot of questions."

"Do you mind it?"

"Not at all, it'll be fun to be on this side of the information for once." Watson said with a grin.

"Then let's let the cat out of the bag, so to speak."

"Morning Ms. Watson, Holmes." Gregson greeted them as they entered his office.

Joan and Sherlock looked at each other and nearly burst out laughing as they both thought how she wouldn't be "Ms. Watson" much longer. Gregson noticed, but didn't say anything.

Bell walked in and nodded his greetings to the two consulting detectives. "So we have a new lead, His name is Nicola Azari. Here's his file." He handed Joan the folder, and she reached for it with her left hand. Sherlock, of course, knew that this was deliberate and covered his hand with his mouth to hide the smirk that was threatening to spread across his face.

At first the two didn't notice, but quickly they did a double take and Bell caught her hand to further examine the diamond that sat rather contentedly on her ring finger.

"Mind explaining the giant rock on a finger that is usually reserved for wedding bands and engagement rings?" Bell asked.

Gregson whistled and raised his eyebrows. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Whoever he is, he's certainly got a bit of money, this ring's gotta be at least 2 carats..." Bell answered.

Joan could no longer suppress the grin she was holding, and her eyes flicked back to Sherlock to see how he was faring. At first she thought he was crying. His face was in his hand, and his shoulders were shaking, but she soon realizing that he was laughing, which turned out to be contagious, because suddenly she was laughing as well. Her hand went to Sherlock's shoulder as she tried to steady herself so she could breathe again.

Gregson and Bell looked at each other, both thoroughly confused, until finally Gregson seemed to figure it out and his eyes went wide. He pointed at the two consultants who were still trapped in a giggle fit. "You two?!"

It took Bell a moment to catch up, but once he did, he was just as surprised. "Them two?!"

Slowly the pair began to regain their composure and nodded in affirmation.

"When did this happen?" Gregson continued.

Joan was the first to take a calming breath before answering. "This morning. Piece of crap of a proposal if it wasn't so damn cute."

Sherlock finally stopped laughing and replied rather indignantly. "I thought it was a very logical proposal, it was not in anyway meant to be cute."

"You were scared I'd say no, so you left it on my pillow with a note. That would be classified as cute." Joan countered.

"You proposed with a note? Come on Sherlock, take her out for a meal, be romantic." Gregson interjected.

"I thought it was. I used the precise words I used when I proposed that she become my apprentice."

Bell smiled, "I'm siding with the her on this one, that's cute." Bell started to laugh at Sherlock's expense, something he did not appreciate.

"Come on Holmes, it was sweet. I like it, the proposal suits you." Gregson tried to placate the consulting detective.

"And she said yes, so it can't have been that bad." Bell added.

"That I did. We expect you both at the wedding." Joan answered.

"I guess I'll have to get used to calling you Mrs. Holmes." Gregson shook his head, the name felt strange in his mouth.

Both Sherlock and Joan shook their heads. "I am keeping my name." Joan smiled back at Sherlock, and he squeezed her hand. They hadn't even discussed it, and yet they both knew that they would always be Watson and Holmes no matter what.

"Well alright then. Now we have that out of the way, let's get back to the case." Sherlock noted.


	2. Chapter 2

In which Joan meets Holmes and Sherlock meets Emily

Watson sat in her bed that night, thinking about the day. The lead the police found turned out to be a good one, and eventually they caught the man who had been murdering several college students on NYU's campus. And while they agreed to keep things professional during cases, she was pretty sure Sherlock was grinning like an idiot whenever her back was turned. She knew she had been.

The conversation she had with her family that morning was a relatively good one. Her mother was ecstatic and insisted on taking her dress shopping very soon. Her father was happy that she was happy. And Oren? He had his doubts, but knew that Joan could take care of herself. She had called Emily, her only real girlfriend, and told her the news. She was definitely _not_ happy, and this upset Joan more than a little. While Em had finally supported her decision to become a detective, she had reservations about Sherlock and was still prejudice against his addiction. Well, she hadn't met him yet and that would have to change if Emily was going to be her Maid of Honor.

All in all, the day had been interesting. She was engaged to Sherlock Holmes, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. On the one hand she was thrilled, ecstatic even. She loved Sherlock with all of her heart, that she was sure of. But she was worried, he hadn't even said he loved her yet. Not that he really needed to. He may not have said the words, but it was clear in everything that he did. Every word he spoke to her, every time he looked at her; it was obvious that he was in love with her. He wouldn't have proposed if he hadn't. Watson knew this. And then there was the whole sex thing, which, while she would freely admit (maybe not to him) that she sometimes fantasized what it would be like to sleep with him, the actual act illogically scared her.

As if Sherlock had read her mind (she was sure that he could), he entered her room in true Sherlock fashion and simply walked in without knocking. Joan didn't mind, she hardly ever closed her door anymore. And they were engaged, so he should be able to enter room whenever he liked.

"It seems that I have not yet mastered the art of communication, my dear Watson." He was nervous; and when Sherlock was nervous, Joan was nervous.

"Hmm?" Joan asked, coming back from her thoughts, a little worriedly.

"This morning I proposed, and you said yes which if it wasn't clear, made me extremely happy. I have failed, however, to ask you how you felt about the matter."

Joan smiled and patted the open space on the bed next to her. Sherlock readily obliged, and sitting up, leaned back against the head board next to her. Unconsciously their hands intertwined, something Joan imagined would be happening a lot more now.

"Truthfully?" Joan asked.

Sherlock bit back his witty remark, sensing the trepidation in her voice. "I'm afraid. To be honest. I'm afraid this won't work; afraid that if we split up, what will happen to us as partners, afraid that one day you'll get bored of me...I'm not Irene. I don't mean Moriarty, I mean the Irene that you fell in love with. I'm not her." The last part slipped out, and Joan hadn't even realized that she was worried about that possibility.

"No, you're not Irene. You are different, and so much better in so many ways. You are not a hinderance. You challenge me in a completely different way, not as an obstacle that one must figure out how to get around, but a coach. One that sees one's potential and pushes one to strive for it. And in my humblest opinion, you are far more beautiful. Joan."

Sherlock reached down and lifted her chin, so that she was looking at him. "I really wish you'd be rid of that self doubt. I do not intend for much to change after we are married. There will definitely be more sex, that I am going make sure of, but beyond that I hope that our partnership remains very much the same." Sherlock smirked, one of those minuscule smiles that Joan had to learn to detect.

She smiled back just a little, and he continued. "And I promise you that if it comes to a point where our romantic relationship no longer works, our professional relationship will not be affected."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't-" Joan began to say, but Sherlock cut her off.

"As to being bored of you, I had hoped by now that you would of realized that I could _never_ be bored of you. You're an enigma, no matter how many times I think I've solved you, you go and do something that proves me completely wrong. I don't believe I have said this yet, but my dear dear Watson, I am most unequivocally and irrevocably in love with you."

He smiled wide and planted a deep kiss on Joan's lips. That night, Joan fell asleep in Sherlock's arms with a smile on her face. Her fantasies didn't even come close to the real thing.

The next morning morning Joan woke with a start. Terrified that yesterday had been nothing more than a dream, she quickly looked down to examine her left hand. She smiled, as the ring was still happily on her finger. It was then she realized that she was completely naked.

_So last night had happened as well_, She thought. Joan's smiled broadened into a full blown grin as she remembered the night before. Looking about, she noticed a neat pile of clothes on the end of her bed. An outfit perfectly picked out by Sherlock.

Once dressed she went downstairs, following the scent of coffee. "Sherlock?"

"In here!" He called back from the kitchen.

As she entered, still grinning like a fool, she said. "One word about my gait and I _will_ smack you." She turned around and her smile faded as Joan saw Alistair eating cereal at their kitchen table. "Alistair. Hello."

"Good morning Joan." Alistair tried to conceal a smirk by drinking his coffee but failed miserably.

Watson turned to Sherlock with embarrassment. "You could have warned me we had company. Why didn't you wake me?"

Sherlock smiled without any remorse, "You looked too beautiful to disturb." He planted a kiss on the top of her head and handed her a cup of coffee.

"When has that ever stopped you before?" Joan asked, her arms crossed. She knew very well that she had him in a trap, and she wanted to see how Sherlock would get out of it.

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again once he realized what Joan had done. If he admits that this morning was different, then he risks implying that she was not beautiful all the time, which she was, extraordinarily so. If he says that last night changed the circumstances, he risked angering her, for she did not appreciate being coddled; and furthering her embarrassment in front of Alistair. He was trapped, and this was a trap that he wasn't sure he could get out of.

Alistair saw all of this and decided to have mercy on his friend, who was thoroughly struggling, much to his amusement. "I think Sherlock means to say that this morning, he happened to take the time to really notice your spectacular beauty for the first time, and had no desire to ruin it."

Joan turned to Alistair and gave him a smile and a wink. A silent conversation between the two, communicating their equal amusement in Sherlock's loss for words. Sherlock simply nodded, agreeing with his friend's assessment, and looked at his fiancee pleadingly.

She smiled, and gave him a tender kiss on the lips as an approval. Sherlock sighed with relief after she had left the room to enjoy her coffee and talk to Emily about having dinner.

"Careful Sherlock, you're walking through a minefield now." Alistair laughed.

"Will she always be like this?"

"Joan isn't the type. I think today was a special circumstance, in that she was embarrassed and she wanted to blame you for it. It's doubtful she'll do it in a normal setting."

"I certainly hope so. She is too clever for my own good." Sherlock smiled.

A couple of hours later, long after Alistair was gone, Joan returned to the kitchen to find Sherlock hanging up his phone.

"Ah Watson, an interesting development, and before I begin, I swear to you that it was merely a coincidence that my proposal coincided with a business symposium on Wall Street this week."

"Why would a business symposium have anything to do with-"

"Because it called my father to town. I was just on the phone with him, he's agreed to dine with us for lunch this afternoon as Shangri-La downtown."

"Neither of us are dressed for Shangri-La. Now I have to go find something to wear." She began to dash off to get ready, before turning back sharply giving Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek, and turning back again to find something suitable for one of the swankiest restaurants in New York.

"By the way," She called back as she ascended the stairs, "We are having dinner with Emily tonight. And yes you have to come!"

Sherlock swallowed hard. He had avoided meeting Emily for some time. However, now it seemed impossible to shirk the introduction any longer. You couldn't tell who was more nervous, Joan or Sherlock.


End file.
